


The Value of Common Sense

by mildlyproductivetrashbag



Series: When One Door Closes, Another One Opens [1]
Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, Asexual!Daud, Bad Jokes, Badass Jessamine, Daud is done with everyone's shit, Everything Gets Mixed Up, F/M, Fluff, For Want of a Nail, Happy Whaler Family, Jessamine Kaldwin Lives, Low Chaos (Dishonored), The Outsider's a Little Shit, The one where Daud has logic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-11-18 22:58:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11300601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mildlyproductivetrashbag/pseuds/mildlyproductivetrashbag
Summary: Our choices will always matter, to someone, somewhere. A single person could hold the fate of thousands in their hands.Daud knows what he holds, he knows what he can and should change. Because of this, Jessamine never falls under his blade. Dunwall doesn't descend into utter chaos. And his conscience remains free of guilt.Out of all the possibilities, the Outsider never expected this. Daud has somehow exceeded all his expectations.





	1. Can You Feel The New Day Rising?

Daud was halfway through his breakfast when he found the letter. A nondescript envelope lay at the bottom of the many letters he received that day. At first, he barely paid it any notice, buried as it was in other papers. Gaudy, intricate letter caught his attention first. Expecting something trivial, he opens the letter last.

What he reads however, nearly makes him choke on his loaf of bread. It was an assassination request for Jessamine Kaldwin, the damn empress herself. But it wasn't what shocked him. Indeed, he barely would have blinked had it just been that. No, what shocked him was the name signed at the bottom of the letter. Written in a sophisticated cursive was the name, Hiram Burrows. The Royal Spymaster.

He doesn't know what to make of it. For one, there was no proof of who had sent the letter. No imperial seal or signature to indicate its legitimacy. Even if there was, he would still reject it. Not that he doubted his abilities. The whole thing wasn't worth the trouble. Assassinating the empress would be nothing short of disastrous, even if Dunwall wasn't already cursed by plague. There was no point in causing any more complications.

However, the letter's mere existence, whether or not it was legitimate, was concerning. Someone wanted Jessamine Kaldwin dead, and they had the guts to contact Daud to get it done. Getting a letter to him required actual contact with one of his whalers, or at most, knowledge of their base's location.

He pockets the letter and got up from his desk. Billie dropped off the letters that day. She should know where the letter came from.

The stench of the Flooded District greets him on his way out. A quick check with Void Gaze reveals someone above him. He goes through an open window and transverses up to the roof, startling the whaler on patrol as he did so.

"Master Daud!" the whaler saluted.

He acknowledges the salute with a nod. "Thomas. Shouldn't you be off duty right now?"

Thomas shrugs. "Quinn's leg is still sprained. I'm taking over for her."

"Alright. Don't overwork yourself. Have Rulfio take over for you after two hours." His tone indicated that it wasn't a suggestion.

"Understood."

They stand there for a few moments, their gaze sweeping over the rest of the District. Whalers flicker in and out of existence at various locations. Daud follows their movements. He could see the way they followed set patterns in their patrols, patterns that could be easily exploited. Filing away a mental reminder to shuffle their posts again, he turned back towards Thomas.

"Have you seen Lurk?"

"If I remember right, she went to the storage building to drop off some weapons." He points to the building across them.

Daud thanks him and leaps off of the roof. He transversed in the middle of his jump, and lands gently onto the metal walkway. Someone falls into step beside him.

"Sir. The Orina job went well. Leon and his men just returned this morning." Rulfio's distorted voice filters through the mask.

"Excellent." He said approvingly. "Tell Leon to go to my office. He'll know what to do with the package."

Rulfio raises his fist to his chest and bows. "As you wish." He disappears.

"Daud?" Billie calls out. She stood at the entry way of the storage house.

"You've returned. I trust everything went well on your mission?" He said, and closes the distance between them.

"Of course. The target is dead."  She crosses her arms. "Lord Brisby has already been informed."

"Good job. But, I have something else to discuss with you," he pulls out the envelope and holds it up for scrutiny. "Do you recognize this?"

"Yeah," she nodds, "I picked that up from one of our informants last night." She removes her mask. "Why? What's this about?"

"I need a name, Billie."

She shrugs. "It's Statford. I ran across him in Hobknocker's Alley during the mission."

"Hobknocker's Alley?" He raises his eyebrows. "That's a long way from home. What was he doing there?"

"I didn't stay for long, but it looked like he was negotiating with a man."

Daud nods. "Noted." He folds the letter back up and places it inside his coat. "I'll be leaving after dark to confirm a lead. Tell the men to extend the patrols to the edges of the district."

"Why?" She scowls. "What was in the letter? Where did the need for all this caution come from?"

He waves her away. "Someone might know we're here. It's not a sure thing." He looks at her to ensure she understands. "I'll see to it that the matter's cleared before the end of this weeks." She bows in response and disappears in a flurry of shadows and void magic.

He sighs. He was sorely tempted to throw the letter away. It was going to bring nothing but trouble, of that he was sure.

\--------------------------------------------------

Daud wipes away the sweat from his brow. Stratford had been a nasty piece of work. He'd refused to give up his employer, even after Daud offered to bribe him. Nothing he offered was enough of an incentive. In the end, he had to resort to some of his more _unsavory_ methods.

Torture was messy and unpleasant, but it was a necessary evil. There was just some people who couldn't be bargained with. Fortunately for him, Statford wasn't the kind of man who would take his secrets to the grave. He was a coward.

It only took an hour for him to get the information he needed. The man got the letter from one of his friends, who got it from one their friends, who got it from an officer of the watch, and so on and so forth. Daud followed the trail for the whole day, and it all eventually led to one man.

Hiram Burrows. So, the letter was true.

Now it was just a question of what to do next. He couldn't reject the offer. Burrows would only find some other way to off the Empress. He couldn't accept it either and then leave the contract to rot. Eventually, Burrows would get tired of waiting and once more, find someone else to do his dirty work. He had to find a way to satisfy Burrows and at the same time, keep the Empress safe.

Warning her would be out of the question. She would never believe him. Even showing the letter would be pointless, as it had no seal, and so it might as well be a forgery. He couldn't protect her from afar, either. Not 24/7. Burrows could slip her poison, and he would be none the wiser. The tower wasn't a safe place for the Empress anymore. He didn't know who was loyal to her alone, or who could be bought and sided with the Spymaster.

It looked as if the best option was for her to leave the tower altogether. But where? Where would it be safe enough for the Empress to stay, and out of Burrow's reach?

"Something on your mind?" A voice interrupts his thoughts. He startles, and draws his sword on instinct. Fortunately, the person who startled him was smart enough to stand at a distance and avoid his strike. He scowls once he realized it was Lurk standing before him.  He hadn't noticed how close he was to the base already.

"Lurk. Don't you have better things to do?" He asks, and withdraws his sword.

"No. Certainly nothing more important than bothering an old man from drifting off." She smirks, but quickly turns serious when Daud clearly wasn't in such a mood. "So, what did you find?"

"The letter I had earlier was a potential contract." His expression turned grim. "For the Empress's life." Her eyebrows practically reached her hair. "That's not all. I just confirmed that it was Hiram Burrows who had sent it."

"Well. That- That wasn't what I expected." For once, she didn't seem to have a witty response. "What are you going to do?" She asked.

He didn't know.

Daud rubbed his face tiredly. What _was_ he going to do?

"I already know what we can do. We need to find a safe place for the Empress to stay."  He motioned for her to follow him as he transversed to the nearest walkway. They continued walking. "Somewhere away from Burrows influence, and somewhere we can reach her easily."

"We?"

"Who else could protect her? And who else could do it as well as we can?" He challenged.

"But why?" She frowned. "It's not our responsibility."

"Think, Lurk!" He snapped. "Jessamine Kaldwin is all that's holding this godforsaken city together. What do you think will happen when she dies?"

"Then why don't you bring her here?" That stopped him in his tracks. Bring her here? That was- It was ridiculous. But it did satisfy most of what he needed. Safe, near enough for them to protect, and away from Burrows influence.

"I wasn't being serious." Billie said.

"It's exactly what I needed." He turned around to face her. "Call the other lieutenants.” He smirked. “We're going to plan a way to fake the death of an empress."


	2. What A Tangled Web We Weave

Waves crash against the cliff side, throwing themselves at the sharp and immovable stones lying in wait. Loud and boisterous voices talk and shout, filling the afternoon with mindless chatter. A few sailors try to rope him into conversation but he always finds some way to escape. The ship's horn sounds, a creaking, terrible, screech that must have been heard by everyone within a hundred meters. At the signal, men rush to and fro across the ship's metal deck. He sighs. Every second brings him closer to Dunwall Tower, to Emily and Jessamine. He has nothing but bad news to give.

The sound of heavy boots over metal prompts him to leave his thoughts. Curnow, he thinks absentmindedly.

"We'll be boarding in a few minutes, Lord Protector," the captain informs him. He nods. He's reluctant to turn around, because it means he'd have to return to his responsibilities, to being the Lord Protector.

He breathes deeply, taking in the sea air and the scent of burning whale oil. It's not so bad, this far out to sea. It doesn't make him gag at the very least, and he's grateful for that.

Behind him, Curnow waits patiently. A good man, he thinks. Honorable and loyal to a fault. In another world perhaps, one that wasn't wrought with politics and corruption, he would have gone far. But this was Dunwall, and this city was no place for good men.

With one final look over the ship's railing, he turns around and motions for Curnow to lead the way. The pair walk across the deck and to the small boat waiting for them at the edge of the ship.

They get onto the boat, along with another guard. Deckhands lower them into the ocean and they were off. Slowly but surely, Dunwall Tower looms closer, and the letter Corvo carries grows heavy in his coat pocket.

\---------------------------

Emily greets him with a cheer the moment she sees him. He gathers her up in his arms and hugs her tightly. The soft ruffles of her clothes brush against his face and he smiles. Emily never failed to bring a smile to his face, and that wasn't about to change now.

"Let's play hide and seek! I'll cover my eyes and you hide." She says, as he puts her down. He couldn't possibly say no. Not when she was looking at him like that, eyes wide and pleading, begging for a chance to spend just a little more time with him. So he nods, and allows himself to be dragged away. In a few minutes, he was engaged in a game of hide of seek. He hides atop the side stairs leading to the waterlock. From his vantage point, he realizes that he has a good view of the surrounding area. He could even see the gazebo.

Jessamine was standing there, arms crossed and facing the sea. She seemed deep in thought, and he was glad he decided not to go to her immediately. Someone approaches her. A tall bald man- Hiram. The Royal Spymaster. What could he have to tell her? The man was a purveyor of bad news. Corvo disliked him. There was something deeply irritating about the man. He always had a look of contempt on his face whenever he spoke to someone he believed was inferior. It infuriated him to no end.

Still, the man was useful. There was no denying that. The pair move out of view, and Corvo was forced to focus on something else. Emily had just finished counting, and was running around to try and find him.

Eventually, she gives up and he emerges from hiding. They make their way back up again. They pass by Anton Sokolov and Overseer Campbell on the way. The Royal Physician was painting a portrait of the High Overseer, though the frown on his face indicated that he was none too pleased about the situation.

"Good morning." He says.

Sokolov tears his attention away from the canvas for a few seconds to respond.

“Hello, Corvo. Welcome back, from wherever you’ve been.” He drags his brush over the canvas with a flourish. “I’m sure the Empress will be glad to see you, eh?” Sokolov smirks and turns towards him. He gestures to the painting with his brush and askes, “What do you think? Certainly not my best work, but I must work with what I have.”

“It’s… good.” He says, trying to inject some enthusiasm into his voice.

Sokolov sighs. “I thought as much. In this painting, I insult my own genius.”

Corvo shrugs apologetically, and makes to walk away, but Campbell suddenly calls out.

“How goes your travels, Corvo? I trust you bring good news, of course?”

“I’m afraid I can’t share that information, at least for now.”

“Shame.” The overseer rolls his shoulders and glances at Corvo. “You’d best deliver the news to the Empress then. The sooner this is all over with, the sooner we can return to our normal lives.”

He nods and leaves the two their work. He and Emily make their way up to the gazebo, where Jessamine and Hiram were still conversing. The conversation seemed to be reaching its peak by the time he and Emily arrive. Bits and pieces of their conversation reach his ears.

“We will not speak of this again.” Jessamine’s voice was firm. So, the two just had another one of their arguments.

“Yes, your majesty.” And Hiram was on the losing side. Again.

Emily takes this as her cue to run up to them, a large smile on her face when she reaches Jessamine.

“Mother! Corvo’s back!” she says, bouncing up and down on the heels of her feet. She's practically vibrating with excitement. Jessamine smiles, and affectionately lays a hand on Emily’s head. At the same time, she looks sternly at Hiram and politely asks him to leave.

Having finally been noticed, Corvo finally walks toward the gazebo. Hiram stops in front of him and acknowledges him with a tight smile. 

“Corvo. Two days early! Full of surprises, as usual.”

He doesn’t grace him with a verbal response, opting to nod and continue towards Jessamine instead. He hears Hiram mutter something behind his back, but he ignores it. It was probably just some insult or the other. This was nothing new to him.

Jessamine doesn’t smile when she sees him, but her eyes are a different matter. They’re warm and reveal the depth of her relief at seeing him in front of her again.

“It’s a fair wind that brings you back to me. What news have you brought?” she says, and holds out her hand.

He gives her the envelope. She opens it and begins to read the letter within. Her expression turns darker and darker with every passing second. Her nails dig into the paper, revealing her agitation. By the end of it, she breathes a heavy sigh.

“I had hoped that some of the other cities would have already dealt with this. Knew of some cure,” she drops the letter and clenches her fists. She turns her back on both Corvo and Emily, and faces the ocean. “I had hoped that perhaps they could have helped us. Maybe even saved us." Her hands trembled. "I was willing to beg for help. But there’s nothing."

“Are you okay mother? You sound sad,” says Emily.

Jessamine faces Emily and crouches to be on her level. She forces a shaky smile, for her daughter's sake. “Mother’s fine, Emily. Just a few problems, that’s-” Suddenly, she freezes and straightens up. “Wait- Where are all the guards?”

Corvo stiffens. His hand crept towards the blade hanging from his belt and he immediately positions himself in front of Jessamine and Emily. He looks to where Jessamine's gaze is pointed, and realizes that she's right. The guard stationed near the stairs was gone.

“Look!” Emily shouts, “Why are those men on the roof?”

He whirls around and spots two men running across the roof of the waterlock building. He curses under his breath and draws his sword. Behind him, Jessamine grabs Emily by the arm and pulls her close.

Corvo’s eyes are trained on the approaching assassins. In the space of a second, one of them jumps off of the roof and vanishes. His heart stills.

_Black magic._

That could mean only one group. The Whalers.

His suspicions were confirmed in the next second when a being clad with the industrial garb appears before his eyes. In spite of his shock, years of vicious training and lightning quick reflexes kick in and he counters the assassin’s attack. He disarmed the man with ease, dealing an unexpected parry that leaves the man’s sword flying across the gazebo. He whips out his pistol. He kills the whaler with a single shot to the head.

In the haze of battle, he hears Jessamine gasp. He spins around to see another whaler materializing out of thin air. Corvo quickly closes the distance between them. He brings his sword down on the man’s neck, but ends up swinging at air. The man had vanished, leaving him to stumble forward. He regains his balance just in time to duck as the man tries to decapitate him. The steel brushes against his hair, narrowly missing head.

A sharp pain explodes in his leg and he loses his balance. He catches himself from tumbling to the ground with an outstretched palm. Muttering a curse, he twists around to see another assassin poised to strike. In his peripheral vision, his former opponent was doing the same to Jessamine.

The next few seconds were a blur. His body reacts faster than it had ever done in his life. He slashes at the leg of the man holding him at sword point, pulls himself up, and shoots the other man straight in the back of his head.

Blood splatters all over Jessamine and Emily, staining her lovely white clothing, and she screams. A part of Corvo screams at him to go and check on them, even though he knew that they were perfectly fine. He pushes aside the impulse and painfully straightens himself up to inspect the area. The bolt in his leg is impairing his movement, but the adrenaline pumping through his veins are keeping him upright. For now.

No new threats seemed to reveal themselves, and he breathes an indistinct sigh of relief. They were saf-

A strong pull yanks him off of the ground. His entire body is suspended in the air, surrounded by a sickly green light. A man in a red suit materializes out of nowhere, and he gets a second’s glimpse of a blank, scarred face–

Right before the man sinks a bolt into Jessamine’s chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been in the works for a long time, and I'm really excited to be writing about this! I really hope people enjoy this. Please leave reviews, maybe just general comments or constructive criticisms, it really does help.
> 
> (Also, I moved this note from chap. 1 to here, because for some reason I'm having issues with it repeating? I'm not sure if it's just me being stupid or it's an actual issue.)
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy this wild ride!


	3. Smoke and Mirrors

Daud was not a man prone to underestimating people. In his line of work, that led to failure, and failure was almost always lethal.

But in this instance, he’d done exactly just that. The Royal Protector wasn’t supposed to be there. He was two days early, and Daud had nothing on him. Nothing except rumors and news surrounding the man, Sending in only three men to deal with him had clearly been a mistake. Corvo Attano had dispatched them with ease, and now there are three dead whalers on his hands. He grits his teeth and signals Rulfio to move forward. He gives him specific instructions to hold the protector in place, and motions for Billie to follow as a safeguard.

Together, they move as one and blink onto the gazebo. Rulfio moves to intercept Attano and renders him helpless with pull. Now that the threat was neutralized, he moves towards the Empress and her daughter and levels his wrist bow at her chest. One move, and he shoots a modified sleep bolt dead center into her body. Billie does the same with her child and the pair slump to the ground.

Corvo lets out a strangled gasp, his hands reaching out towards them. A pang of guilt struck Daud, but it quickly dissipated. This was the best and only workable option he had.

Billie quickly advances on the young Kaldwin girl and slings her over her shoulder. Daud does the same with the Empress and together, they transverse to the edge of the barrier separating the gazebo from the ocean. A cursory glance down below showed that the whalers were already in position. All that was left to do had to be done from their side.

“Now.” Daud says, and they throw their burdens over the cliff. Behind them, he could hear the protector crying out the child’s name.

 _“Emily!”_ It was the first and only word he’d spoken this whole time.

Right before the Kaldwin’s bodies hit the rocks, Daud lifted his left hand and pulled _._ The mark flared, brilliant shades of cyan and amber coming to life, and the world _stopped._ Completely reduced to a dull monochrome and utterly still.

Billie wastes no time in jumping after them. They transverse on to the precarious cliff face and pluck the bodies from the air. And not a moment too soon, for just a few moments later, time began to move once more. Behind them, Rulfio appears.

“What of the Lord Protector?” Daud asks.

“He should still be dazed and lying on the floor. I dropped him pretty harshly, and he hit his head. But he’ll live.”

“Excellent,” he says, and shifts the Empress so he has a better hold on her body, “Let’s go, before the alarms are raised.” He transverses to a small boat hidden behind a rock outcropping.

“You heard him,” Billie says, and the two follow Daud into the boat.

The group of assassins sail away, far to the right and away from all the guards patrolling the tower. Alarms began to blare all over the palace as news of their deed was discovered. All while the Empress and her heir slept soundly, unaware of the chaos that had only just begun.

\-----------------------------------------

It’s a whole hour before they get anywhere near their getaway boat. A lot of skilled maneuvering on Rulfio’s part coupled with the confusion caused by their mission helped them avoid detection. Once they removed their masks and put on shabby coats over their uniforms, they looked nothing more than mere fishermen. From afar, at least. A thin grey blanket over the Empress and her daughter helped conceal them from view.

The Aurelis is a welcome sight after their rough travel on the small boat. A deckhand spots them from afar, and he signals the others to make preparations for their arrival.

The Empress’s body hangs limply over Daud’s shoulder. Her hair had fallen out of its neatly kept bun, and it brushes irritatingly against his arm. Thankfully, she was still deep in slumber, so there was no trouble in carrying her on deck.

Rulfio walks beside him with the young Kaldwin girl in his arms. She was still unconscious, a result of the modified sleep dart from earlier. He nods respectfully towards Daud, and walks toward the cabin. Two separate rooms had already been prepared in advance.

Daud raises his free hand and summons a whaler. A nearby deckhand startles violently when a man appears out of nowhere, accompanied by the hiss of void magic and shadows swirling around their feet.

“Take the Empress and place her in the cabin next to the princess’s. Find Yuri and tell him to bring some food for them when they wake up.” He orders. The whaler, Harris, nods and gently lifts Jessamine off of Daud’s shoulder. He transverses off into the direction of the cabins.

Daud strides towards the helm, where Billie was already waiting.

“How goes the day, soldier?” she asks with a smirk.

“How do you think?” he deadpans, “We’ve just faked the death of an empress and her child, proceeded to kidnap them, and left their protector to deal with the fallout of _our_ actions. All this, just to prevent a greater tragedy from happening.” She raises her eyebrows at him.

“Are you saying you regret it?” she crosses her arms. “It hasn’t even been a whole day.”

He was quick to respond. “No. Of course not. This whole situation would have gone to the void if we hadn’t done anything at all.”

“Noble reason. Should I be impressed?”

He scoffs. “Noble? I didn’t this out of the goodness of my heart.” He shakes his head. “There were only a few ways this could have gone. I elected to take the route that would be better in the long run.”

“And how do you know that it will be better for the long term? You might think you thought of all the possible paths, but you aren’t omniscient,” she frowns, “There _will_ be consequences Daud.”

“I am perfectly aware, Lurk,” he glares, “We have gone over this a hundred times and more. You and I both agreed that this was our best course of action.”

At that, hardness in her eyes disappears. She sighs. “I know. It’s just,” she bites her lip and runs a hand through her hair. “I don’t know if we made the right decision,” she hesitates, thinking on what to say next, “Something is coming Daud, something big. I can feel it in my bones,”

“Whatever it is, we’ll deal with it. Just like everything else this damned world has already thrown at us.” He’s glad to hear his voice remain steady, showing nothing of what he’s truly feeling. In reality, Billie’s words affected him more than he was willing to admit. A seed of unease had been planted in his heart. She wasn’t the only one troubled with such ominous feelings.

They lapse into silence. The scent of salt and brine surrounds them, enveloping them with its comforting familiarity. In a short amount of time, they were already a long way away from Dunwall Tower. They had to take a rather roundabout way to get to Rudshore, a precaution in case someone had spotted or followed them. This far into the ocean, the stench of death and rot that plagued the city of Dunwall and permeated the skin of all its residents, couldn’t reach them. If he closed his eyes, he could even pretend that he was somewhere else, if only for a short while.

A fanciful dream. Dunwall was an inescapable abyss of despair and corruption. Once you were in, it was nigh impossible to get out.  It had always been like this. Before the plague, before his arrival, even before Jessamine Kaldwin took to the throne, it was already rotting from the inside out. It was just more evident now. In the past, only the façade of elegance and superiority kept the city’s filthy secrets from other continents’ prying eyes.

His forced interference during this turbulent time was unfortunate. He dreaded to think of what was to come next.

“Sir.” A voice speaks up behind him. Even with the mask, it is easy to tell its Aidan, one of the younger recruits, from the pitch of his voice. “Princess Emily has woken up. What should we do?”

“Do nothing. There should already guards outside their cabins, which should be enough to keep them inside. But as soon as we’re in sight of Rudshore, sedate her. It’ll be harder to move her into base if she is awake for it.”

Aidan turns to transverse away, but he hesitates “She… She’s also asking for her mother.”

Ah. So that was the real reason Aidan came to him. Of course. The boy always did have a soft heart. It was one of the biggest reasons why Daud hadn’t released him for real active duty. Aidan was a good fighter, better than most of the new recruits, and he was even better at stealth, but he couldn’t kill a man even if his life depended on it. This small yet vital fact obviously made him a piss poor assassin.

“Leave her be. Better to separate the two to keep them from making any ‘escape’ plans. At least,” he adds, “until we move them in to a stable location.”

“Maybe if-“ Aidan begins, but he cuts himself off once he sees the stern glare that Daud levels at him. The poor boy practically withers under his gaze and drops his eyes down to the floor.

“…Understood, sir.” He walks away, and there’s a distinct slump in his shoulders as he does so.

Daud sighs. He could send Aidan on a hundred or more missions, but it would all be in vain because he would never actually get the job done. The best the boy would ever be able to do would be reconnaissance or the thievery missions they took every now and again. It was a damn shame. The kid had a lot of potential.

Still, Aidan would not be wasted. Daud would just have to find other ways to make use of him.

Daud spends the rest of the trip in his cabin. There is a large heap of paper waiting for him on his table, a collection of whaler reports, plan frameworks, information from contacts, maps, and the like for him to sort through. By the time he was able to arrange them into some sort of system, the ship’s horn is already sounding, signaling their proximity to Rudshore.

They’re home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it might already be clear at this point, but I wanted to say that my updates won't be regular in the least. I'm truly sorry about this, but with obligations like school and piano and all that boring real life stuff, I can't keep up even a semblance of a proper update schedule. At most, I'll try to be able to update at least thrice a month. Still, I'll try to maintain a consistent word count at least, so there's that. Please bear with me ;-;
> 
> On another note, thank you for all the nice comments that have been given so far :D They really help a lot, and I'm literally willing to accept any comment (except for hate comments that are just for the sake of hate). If there's any things you want to bring up, like if the chapters are a bit too fast paced or too short or whatever, feel free to leave a comment! Or maybe you just want to speculate about what will happen to poor old Corvo ;)


	4. Strands of Intrigue

When the guards finally, _finally_ arrive, there’s nothing left for them to find except Corvo. He’s on his knees, staring blankly at the floor. He is completely still, save for his trembling hands. Burrows calls his name once, twice, even thrice, but there is no response. The guards stare at one another, silently urging each other to approach him. Finally, the tension is broken when Curnow walks forward and lays a gentle hand on his shoulder.

Corvo reacts violently. He explodes into a flurry of action, rising from his kneeling positon and twisting round to grab Curnow’s wrist. He practically tackles the man to the ground, and pulls his fist back to strike. His eyes were filled with the manic intensity of a man with nothing to lose. The other guards rush forward to restrain him but the sheer strength in his movements throws them off.

“Stop! Sto-” Curnow begins, but a direct punch cuts him off, and there’s a cracking sound as his nose breaks. Still, that doesn’t prevent him from calling out Corvo’s name, sharp and desperate, _“Corvo!”_ and it stops the man in his tracks.

The intensity in Corvo’s eyes fades away, only to be replaced by horrified realization and he jerks his hands away as if he was burned. He pushes himself off Curnow and scrambles to move away from him as quickly as possible. His eyes are wide, and he stares at everyone surrounding him in the gazebo as if only seeing them for the first time. He looks back down at his hands to see that they’re shaking uncontrollably. All the guards around him keep themselves at a safe distance, too afraid that he would attack them if they got too close.

Curnow pulls himself up, his right hand cradling his broken nose and his left preventing the blood from dripping down his uniform. Injured as he is, Corvo, albeit at a more cautious pace.

“Corvo?” he asks, keeping his voice soft and low, like one would use in speaking to an injured animal. “What happened?” He lowers his hand and extends it towards him slowly, making sure Corvo could see what he was doing. He has no wish to startle him anymore.

“They’re gone.” His voice is still hoarse, but the desperation and grief that bleeds into it is not any less evident to those present. “They’re _gone._ ”

Burrows pushes the other guards out of his way and advances on him. Corvo flinches visibly at the sound of the Spymaster’s boots, and he unconsciously curls in on himself with each loud step.

“Where are they? What do you mean they’re gone?” he glares at Corvo, “Where is the Empress and her daughter, body guard?” he asks accusingly. Curnow frowns at him, but there’s nothing he can do to ease Corvo’s panic.

“…He killed them.” Corvo looks up, straight into Burrows’ eyes, and a shiver runs down his spine. There is something so empty, so dead in Corvo’s gaze, that for a second he actually hesitates. He shakes off the unsettling feeling and continues.

“He?” Burrows asks.

“Daud.”

Murmuring breaks out between the guards surrounding their little group, a few hushed gasps and startled intakes of breath could even be heard. The assassin’s reputation preceded him. Burrows raises his eyebrows and exchanges a glance with Campbell, who at this point, was already standing by his side. Corvo’s presence had thrown an unexpected wrench into their plans.

“What happened?” Campbell asks, but he receives no response. Further questioning by any of the men present produces the same results. They only received blank stares in response. Corvo had slipped into a catatonic state. Eventually, Burrows ordered some of the guards to escort Corvo back into the palace to receive medical attention and await any further developments.

Curnow ordered a few of his most trusted men to stay behind and investigate the gazebo for any evidence as to what happened. Even though he suspects there’s nothing actually left for them to find, he still tells them to do everything in their power to glean whatever information they can and fill in the blanks where Corvo could not. With that taken care of, he follows Corvo and his escort back into the palace.

Back at the gazebo, Burrows and Campbell observe the guards from afar. They stand close together and converse in hushed whispers, shooting displeased glances at the men every now and then.

Burrows crosses his arms and turns towards Campbell. “Things haven’t gone according to plan.”

“I am aware,” he bites out, “But nothing can be done now,” his forehead glistens with sweat, and he pulls out a handkerchief to wipe it away. “We will have to improvise.”

“What of the Lord Protector?” he glances around Campbell’s back, in the direction of the palace. “Even if he knows the real murderer, it’s unlikely he’ll be satisfied with just that. Once he’s over the shock, he’ll eventually realize that _someone_ must have contracted Daud to kill the Empress. And then…” he trails off ominously, pointedly looking at Campbell.

“You give him too much credit.”

Burrows rolls his eyes. “And you give him too little. The man is not an idiot, Thaddeus. He will have to be taken care of, sooner or later.”

“What do you propose to do? We have witnesses to his earlier statement,” he gestures towards the men behind him, “We can’t very well just pin the blame on him.”

There is a sudden gleam in Burrows’ eyes. “Oh?” he smirks, “On the contrary, I think that may be our best route. Manipulate some documents, plant a few in select locations, and talk to the right people, and there we have it.”

Campbell looks at him skeptically. “Could it be that simple? Surely people won’t believe-“

Burrows cuts him off, “People will believe anything they hear, if they hear it often enough. It shouldn’t be a difficult venture.”

“Yes, you do have a point,” he rubs his chin thoughtfully, “But, there is still something that’s bothering me about all this.”

“I assume you’re talking about Daud,” he frowns, “And you’re right. He was sloppy, leaving the Protector alive, allowing the man to recognize him, and killing both Kaldwins.”

“About that… I suspect Emily isn’t quite as dead as we think.” Campbell says, causing Burrows to raise his eyebrows. “He might have just kidnapped her, as we ordered. After all, he gains nothing by going against our orders.”

“Hmm, that could be true,” he shakes his head. “Still, we’ll get nowhere by random speculation.”

“Well, at least now we have a plan.”

\--------------------------------------------------------------------

Sokolov moistens the cloth with alcohol and carefully dabs it on Corvo’s injury.

“You’re damned lucky the bolt didn’t shatter while it was in your leg. The damage it could have caused,” he trails off and shakes his head, “As it is now, you’ll recover in a few weeks.” The harshness in his voice belies his gentle movements.

Corvo remains silent. He stares blankly at the ceiling, barely even wincing when Sokolov inserts a needle into his flesh and begins to sew his wound closed. One could mistake him for a dead body if not for the miniscule twitches of his fingers. Behind his blank eyes, he’s running through the horrific incident over and over again.

The bodies of the two people he loved most in the world, slumped lifelessly across the gazebo floor. He can see their glazed eyes and slack mouths. The feeling of ice cold shock slithering down his spine and paralyzing him as his brain caught up with events is still with him. He remembers the vivid red coat of the assassin slipping into view, bending over his beloved Jessamine and throwing her over the cliff as if she was nothing more than garbage.

It is that moment which cements itself into his mind. He sees them falling, moving further and further away from his outstretched hands, and it is _agony._

Fortunately for him, Sokolov finally finishes treating his wounds and he tightens the thread in his stitches. The sharp rise in pain jolts him out of his self-imposed nightmare, and he flinches. Corvo looks around the room, taking in the dim lights, the drawn curtains, and Sokolov leaning over his leg. He moves his head slowly, trying to ease the nausea that threatens to make him vomit. He vaguely remembers being dropped to the ground, which could be the reason for the unpleasant feeling.

“Easy there, Corvo. Don’t over exert yourself.” Sokolov says, and moves away from the bed. Curnow told him about what happened when he startled Corvo, and he doesn’t want a repeat of the incident.

When Corvo eventually speaks, he sounds so lost and confused. “How long have I been…” he trails off uncertainly and looks at Sokolov for guidance.

“No less than thirty minutes. Curnow brought you in here a couple of minutes ago, and after I set his nose, I began stitching your wound.”

Corvo latches onto the guard captain’s name and asks, “Curnow? He’s here?” he looks around the room again, as if another thorough glance would reveal the man.

“Outside. He decided to leave the room, as a precaution in case you tried to attack him again,” he explains.

“Ah.” Corvo looks guiltily down at his hands before shaking his head and looking back up. “Send him in.”

“You should rest for at lea-“

“Sokolov,” he says, and it’s the first time the Royal Physician has heard his name spoken with such weariness, “Just send him in.”

Sokolov looks into Corvo’s eyes, sees the despair lying in its depths, and nods. There was no point in denying the request of a man who had lost all hope and meaning in his life. Besides, he’s sure the man would simply find some other way of exerting himself to get what he wants. It was better to just yield.

He tugs the tasseled rope beside the bed. A few seconds later, the door opens and Curnow enters. He sees Corvo push himself up the bed to get into a better position, and breathes a sigh of relief. Anything was better than the near catatonic state the man was in earlier.

“Corvo! Glad to see you back with us.”

Corvo responds with a wan smile. “I wouldn’t be so sure,” he straightens up, and looks at Curnow seriously, “I want a full report of what happened after I was,” he grimaces, “Indisposed.”

Sokolov stood up as Curnow approached. He grabbed his bag of medical tools and left the room. The captain took the recently vacated seat and looked at Corvo.

“Truth be told, nothing much has happened. I left some of my men to sweep the scene for any evidence, but so far they’ve uncovered nothing. Spymaster Burrows and High Overseer Campbell have been dealing with the fallout of the Empre-…” he looked distinctly uncomfortable, “-their deaths.” Corvo flinches, and Curnow quickly tries to finish his report. “Burrows has already announced it on the city’s speakers. Dunwall knows.”

“Did they announce their murderer as well? Has Burrows already sent out a force to locate Daud?” he spat out the name as if it was poison, “He must have left by a boat, considering he jumped over the cliff and into the sea. They hav-“

“Slow down, slow down!” Curnow held up his hand in an attempt to silence Corvo. “No, Burrows hasn’t announced their murderer, he hasn’t sent out any guards to search for him, and we don’t even know how he left because we still don’t know what happened.” He glanced at Corvo. “You’re the only one who saw what happened, and you haven’t exactly been in any state to tell us.”

“Ah.” That stops Corvo in his tracks. “Of course,” he clutches the blanket tightly and his lips thinned, “I'll explain, but you should call Burrows as well. Saves time, so I don't have to repeat myself.”

Curnow nods. “He should be here in a few minutes. I sent one of my men to call for him earlier, when I found out you were finally awake.” As if on cue, there was a knock on the door. “That must be him,” he turned round and called out, “Come in.”

Burrows enters the room, a stern frown set into his face. “Finally have your senses, Corvo? I suppose now you can tell us what happened, hm?”

Corvo grits his teeth. Burrows was infuriating as always, and right now he has no patience to spare. But getting angry would get him nowhere, so with a heavy heart, he breathes deeply and begins his tale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much action in this chapter, it's more focused on dialogue between characters, but I hope you enjoy it. I find writing Corvo's lines kinda difficult, since we don't really see him talk in the original game. Should I keep on with this formal style or nah? 
> 
> Also, what do you guys think of the chapters so far? See any plotholes? Have any theories what's gonna happen next? Any speculation? Feel free to leave it in the comments :D


	5. Unravel

Samuel Beechworth had a book in his hands and a thermos of tea by his side. The Amaranth slowly bobbed up and down in its place, the motion a familiar comfort to the man. The book he was reading was well worn, with papers yellow with age and several dog-eared pages. Right as he turned the page, the loudspeakers from nearby boomed with the Spymaster's voice, announcing that the Empress and the Princess had died.

In his shock, he accidentally ripped a piece of the paper from the book. He remained stock still, waiting for any explanation to the announcement, maybe a cause of death, any reassuring words, but nothing more came. Once he realized that this was the case, he looked down back to the paper in his hand and sighed. He stuck it in between the pages of his book and placed it on the seat.

Then he began the slow journey back to his home.

\--------------------------

Treavor Pendleton was in the Golden Cat, a drink in his hand and with a courtesan on her knees, servicing him rather enthusiastically. Soft, keening, moans spilled from the young lord's lips, as he threw his head back in pleasure.

When the speaker's announcement filtered into the room through the open window, there was a second of stunned silence. In the next Pendleton had dropped his glass, pushed the courtesan away, and clumsily made his way to the exit. His hands fumbled with his trousers, trying to pull them up even as he stumbled across the room.

"My lord!" he courtesan called out, "Where are you going?"

He whirled around, sweat and saliva spattering everywhere as he spat out a response, "Idiot woman!" he snarled, "I'm going to court. Do you have any idea of the political fallout the Empress's death will bring? I need to be there!" With that, he grabbed his coat lying haphazardly on the floor, and swept out of the room.

\--------------------------

Teague Martin had only just put on his mask when someone came rushing into the room. The doors burst open to let in a man dressed in the uniform of an overseer from the lower ranks. His breath came in short wheezes, and his chest heaved with effort, but he still managed to gasp out four disastrous words,

"The Empress is dead!"

The room exploded into chaos. Everyone, even their superiors, began throwing questions at the unfortunate overseer who delivered the news. Amongst all the pandemonium however, Martin had taken a seat and had already started making plans. A new age was about to begin, and the future was looking bleak.

\--------------------------

Farley Havelock only found out about the tragedy that had befallen Dunwall a whole two days after the event. His first sign that something was wrong were the black flags that greeted him and his men upon their arrival. Banners dark as night were waving from the wooden railings when they docked into the pier. 

The second sign were the grim faces of the men that came to welcome him back. Gone were the smiles and boisterous pleasantries they would usually throw at him from a few meters away.   
  
"You've missed a lot while you were gone, Admiral," Captain Marcus says, his grave expression doing nothing to ease Havelock's unease.

The final sign was the loudspeaker's announcement.

"Any information pertaining to the death of Empress Jessamine and Princess Emily should be delivered immediately to Spymaster Hiram Burrows."

It felt like a stone had settled into his stomach. Where would Dunwall pick itself up from now?

\--------------------------

Delilah Copperspoon lounged on her bed, a content smirk on her face. The large bed dwarfed her small frame. An exquisite silk shift hugged her body. She had everything in the palm of her hands. A house, a bed, good food, clothing, everything a normal person could ask for. 

Months of effort, spent weaving her spell of lust and seduction around Barrister Arnold Timsh, had finally payed off. It had been no easy task.

For a noble, Timsh had a surprisingly strong will. It took her a whole month to worm her way into his mind and begin influencing his actions. That was thrice the time it usually took her when it came to other, more weak-willed subjects. Even then, he still had quite a bit of independence left. But a few months later, she crushed every single piece that was left, after he took her as a lover.

It allowed her greater access into his mind and gave her reason to spend more time around him. Slowly, she spun her web around him, laying strand upon strand of her influence on the unsuspecting noble, until he was nothing more but a hollow imitation of the man he once was.

Now she had him wrapped around her finger. A single word, and she could get him to do near anything. Oh, what a-

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. It opened to reveal her personal chamber maid. Her eyes were rimmed with red, and her breathing was heavy. Delilah frowned.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Good morning miss. Forgive me for being a bother, but I'm here with a request," she said timidly, "May I please have three days of leave?"

"Three days?" Delilah's eyebrows shot up, "Whatever for?"

"My-" she choked on her words, but quickly recovered, "My brother just died, miss. He died a few- a few hours  ago," a tear slid down her cheek, "He died during the Empress's assassination."

The last word caught her attention. She leaned forward, her eyes bright and sharp, "What is this about an assassination?"

The maid blinked. "Haven't you heard, miss? The Empress and her daughter, bless their souls, were assassinated."

"Is that so." she said, her voice an unsettling monotone. After a few beats of silence, she waved away the maid. "Very well. You may have your leave. Now go."

The maid nodded and left. As soon as the door shut behind her, Delilah allowed herself a smile. Slowly, she began to chuckle, and soon she broke into full blown laughter. The sound rang through the empty room, and to the hallway just beyond her doors, send chills down the spine of all the guards in hearing distance.

\--------------------------

Jessamine Kaldwin opened her eyes.

Her head was pounding, as if someone was beating a constant rhythm against her skull. A moldy, paint-chipped ceiling met her gaze, not the familiar cream of her bed's canopy. She suddenly sat up, as realization hit her. She wasn't in her room, so where was she?

And then the events of the last few hours came flooding back in. Burrows, Corvo, Assassins, Daud,  _Emily-!_ She tried to get up from the bed, only to nearly fall flat on her face as a chain connected to a manacle around her ankle prevented her from getting far.

Upon inspection, the chain itself was welded into the bed's metal posts, and the only way to escape was to unlock the manacles.

She was well and truly stuck there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yay we first get to see jessamine's perspective :D
> 
> you'll be seeing more of the other characters here, in future chapters ;) as you have probably already noticed, this fic will be told from the perspective of certain key characters. not all of the ones here will get to have their perspectives shown in the future though. 
> 
> enjoy the chapter :>


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